Where It's At
by karhall
Summary: A rural United States AU story based on the lyrics of Dustin Lynch's song, "Where It's At." It conveys slices of life from a farm boy's relationship with a city girl named Elsa, whose mind is guarded by more walls than anyone else you could find out in the country. — [OC x Elsa] — Cover image: "Blushing Elsa" by A-KA
1. Chapter 1

The creak of the roof boards being blown in the breeze was music to my ears. It wasn't the sound everyone wants to hear, but to me it was satisfaction. It was the sound of my first home. _Our_ first home. It was a fixer-upper, but I liked to think myself handy enough to get it done. There was plenty of acreage to spread out some two-by-fours and plywood to patch that hole over the den and, once we saved enough for some real equipment, raise an honest-to-gosh barn. I sighed; a _barn_. Momma was pretty set that I shouldn't try to start a farm. But this is what I wanted, not the dusty old place Pop said he was going to leave me. Aarondale was dead; the recession had hit it hard and it never got back up. Even before I had graduated high school, I knew I wanted to get out of there and make my own life somewhere else. Lucky me, I had met her; she had made this all happen.

She was the most city-girl girl I had ever met. I remember seeing her get dropped off outside the high school, in her pleated skirt and pastel-blue oxford with a massive purse slung over her arm, looking like she had just been tossed into a pen with an angry steer. I had laughed too that first time she stepped in the cow pat with her "brand new heels," or the look on her face the time the ol' mare Tabitha had practically washed her face trying to get at the carrot she was snacking on.

But now, I wasn't laughing _at_ her, I laughed _with_ her. She was the sweetest thing in the world. I remembered how she had come to watch our semi-final game against Techuwain High even though she didn't really care for football. I sold the game to her pretty hard in the build up the week-of, and I hadn't been sure if she would be there. When I saw her in the stands, though, waving the green-and-purple "A" with the rest of her friends, I knew it was going to be a good night. I even broke the record for single-season sacks by an outside linebacker that night. She was my good luck charm. Then there was the time we all got lost in Kopp's orchard and I had to carry her on my shoulders so we could find our way back to the road. Eddy had been right, beers were a bad idea that night. We'd never admit it, though; Ed was always a bit of a priss.

She grew into the country, and the country grew into her. Before long she was baling hay with me in Pop's barn and driving the truck into town for him when he ran out of chain link. It still hurt, what he had said about us; she had been nothing but good to him, it was the least he could do to return the favor. Her hard city talk had even smoothed into a cultured drawl, but one thing that never changed was how fast she talked. The only way you could tell she wasn't country-raised was that she never slowed down, never just stopped to chat. But I liked that about her. It kept me honest, it kept me on-task. Without her, I wouldn't have amounted to much.

I looked at the clock on our bedside table. _2:00am_. It wasn't a surprise; I was too excited to sleep. You would think that two weeks would be enough to get used to the feeling of being your own man, but you don't know until you've experienced it how good it feels. I put my hands behind my head and sighed, looking up at the creaky ceiling with a quiet satisfaction. This was _my_ house, _my_ life now. I wouldn't have had it any other way.

A hand slipped over my chest. "Hey," came the soft voice from the pillow beside me. I turned my head, knowing well before I even laid eyes on them that her baby blues would be glowing in the moonbeam that shone across the room. Her white-blonde hair was curtained across the pillow like a cascading waterfall of sea foam, and visible to me as well was a hint of her porcelain skin as her shoulder peeked out from the neck of my faded t-shirt she loved to wear to bed. She looked so soft, so smooth. My fingers tingled with the memory of touching her body, how cool and comfortable she was. She blinked groggily. "Why are you awake, sweetie?"

I removed a hand from beneath my head and ran it along her cheek. "I should say the same for you," I replied softly, "you've gotta head into town tomorrow to start up at the school."

She puffed some air out of her button nose, her cheeks wrinkling over the whisper-light freckles beneath her eyes. "I'll be fine," she said, "I only asked because you woke me up moving around."

"Oh! I'm so sorry, sweet-heart," I said, "I didn't mean to!"

She giggled. "Don't, it's okay. Let's just go to sleep." She wriggled herself closer to me and wrapped her arm around my chest, burying her face in my neck.

I smiled, pulling the sheet further over her now-exposed arm. "Good night, Elsa," I said softly, kissing the top of her head. She hummed a reply, buzzing my skin with the vibration and making me feel all warm inside.

This is where I wanted to be. Not in Aarondale, not at Pop's. I wanted it to be 2:00am with her reaching over, a faded t-shirt hanging off her shoulder. "Yep, yep," I whispered.

That's where it's at.


	2. Chapter 2

OOC: Date indicated at the start is relative its preceding chapter.

_5 years earlier…_

"C'mon!" She wanted no part of crossing the creek, but the grip I had on her wrist was persuasive enough to send her stumbling into the ankle-deep babble at my heels. "You need to loosen up a little if you want to enjoy it out here!"

"I didn't know we'd—" she said in an irritated tone, obviously unhappy with the way her feet were getting soaked since I had told her to carry her shoes. But it was muddy enough back here that you would just lose whatever you wore on your feet, so it was for her own good.

"Quit your whining and hurry up, or we'll miss it!" I pulled her with greater haste away from the fading noise of the county fair. She still had a stick of cotton candy in her other hand, small bits along the top of the pillowy cloud of sugar puff crimped and sticky from where she had bitten off a few mouthfuls. She put me in charge of making sure none of it stuck to her face, and I had done my duty, letting her know when stray strands of the sweet had floated onto her chin and cheeks. Each time, without fail, she had blushed and turned away from me, giving me time to chuckle and marvel at how unbelievably adorable she was. She came back each time without so much as a hint of cotton candy on her face, and scolded me for laughing at her. It was a simple formula, but an effective one. It let me look at her as long as I wanted.

"Whatever it is, it can't be important enough to ruin my leggings for it!"

I shook my head. "Oh, hush; you don't even know what it is we're going to see!" I pushed my way through some cattails and felt my bare feet land on a plank of wood. Looking down, I saw what it was we had came for; the railroad tracks. "Right? C'mon! You haven't seen nothing yet!" I brought her to a stop between the two rails and and pointed back the way we had came. "Look!"

She turned her head to where I was gesturing, but I kept watching her eyes. I couldn't help but smile as they lit up with wonder. I knew exactly what she saw; the ferris wheel, standing tall over the reeds in all its multicolored glory. As the colors cycled through, from red to blue to green, the wheel turned slowly but surely. _We_ had just been up there, at the top of the wheel's arc, soaring like we were flying in our own private plane, but we never would have seen the spot we were in from there. We _did_ see the town, all the streets lit dimly with the old-fashioned lamp posts and the businesses clicking off their lights one-by-one as they closed up for the night. We saw the horizon where the sun was finishing its setting, lighting the sky ablaze in an arc over the solitary asphalt road that connected our slice of the country with the rest of the world. It really put into perspective how small we all are, seeing how far away you can go and still not find anything new. Where she came from, there were buildings galore, and streets criss-crossing one another like plaid on a shirt. She'd never thought about what it was like to be truly _in the world_, and I saw that on her face as she ooh'ed and ahh'ed as we reached the top of the ferris wheel's slow rotation.

"So?" I let my arm fall to my side. "Worth it?"

She shrugged. "That _is_ really pretty," she said, "but it's not $70 at _Macy's_ pretty."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll get you new leggings, if it bothers you that much," I said, exasperated, "but I'm not done yet." I spun her around and motioned towards the small pond that was just on the other side of the tracks. This pond was what I was in a hurry to get to. If we weren't in time, we'd miss out on my favorite part of the fair. "Look," I said, nudging her softly towards the water. She looked up at me hesitantly, stepping cautiously towards the pond with her arms folded across her chest. I took a step towards the water too, peering around her to make sure it was actually going to happen. When I saw the muddy mass at the bottom of the pool, I knew we had made it just in time.

The pond was alight with little critters glowing like the torch bugs that zipped around our heads. They were clustered together in bunches all along the silt at the bottom of the water, mirroring the stars in the sky above. I herd her gasp in surprise when she saw the little buggers glowing away, and the way she bent over to look at them closer was proof that she wasn't thinking about _Macy's_ any more.

"Are those…?" she trailed off, squatting down and sitting on the train track.

I sat down next to her. "Those glowing things are alive in there," I said, pointing at them. "Momma says they're bio…lumen…something-or-others."

"Bioluminescent," she said breathily, shaking her head, "they'd have to be!" She leaned forward a bit. "Wow! They're so beautiful!"

"Tell me about it," I said, "I love coming to see them every year around this time."

She looked at me. "How did you find them?"

"Well, I liked exploring when I was a kid. We'd get bored at the fair and sneak away from our parents and come out here. Then, one night, we just stumbled across this pond and…"

"Who's 'we?'"

My breath stopped in my throat. I wasn't ready for that question. Did I want to tell her? Should she know? Was now the time? She just moved here two months ago, she's practically a stranger. Maybe it'd be best if—

"Did I—" her voice startled me back to reality, and apparently it had startled her too. She was looking at me with concern in her eyes, her head tilted to the side, her long braided hair hanging off her shoulder. "Did I say something wrong? You don't have to—"

"No, no, it's all right," I said, leaning back and laying my head on the other railway track, "I just haven't told this story in a while." I sighed. "I was talking about my friend Tay, we used to do everything together. Playing in the fields, sword fights, football. We found so many caves and ditches and hovels full of junk that we would collect and store in our closets, pretending we owned convenience stores and trading one thing for another. And—" I motioned around to the area we were sitting in "—we found this place." I sighed. "But…that was a long time ago."

It was quiet for a few seconds. "Where is he now?" I couldn't blame her for asking.

I closed my eyes. "Barn fire." The silence that blanketed the pond was heavy. Even the frogs stopped croaking.

There was a slight shuffling beside me, and I peered out the corner of my eye to see her drop back onto the train tracks the same way I was. I looked up at the sky. The stars were really bright tonight, like sugar crystals sprinkled onto the blackness of space. I decided to break the silence.

"Do y'all—"

"I'm sorry." Her voice cut me off. She shook her head. "Sorry; I'm sorry about your friend."

I gnawed on my lower lip. "Thanks," I replied, "it's probably six years ago now. He's back in Heaven now, which is better than anywhere else."

"Yea," she said, "that must have been tough."

I shrugged. "It was, y'know. You only really get one or two people like that in your lifetime, so losing him was unfair. We were still just kids, we had more to do on this earth."

"I know what you mean," she said. I turned my head to look at her. She had her eyes closed too, like I had a moment before. "I lost my parents. That's why I moved here, because my parents died."

I felt like someone had punched me in the chest. "Jesus," I cursed, "I didn't—I-I'm so sorry. I had no—"

"Idea? Yea, nobody has any idea." She smirked, clicking her tongue. "They went down on that yacht that capsized. No bodies meant no real ceremony and no real closure, just me and my sister having to figure out where to go from there."

"You have a sister?"

"Mhmm, Anna. Little redheaded girl at the middle school. Our aunt lives overseas in Germany, but we couldn't travel that far, so we came here to live with our godparents." She shook her head. "I _totally_ know what you mean about having more to do on this earth; there was so much more they needed to help me with…before…"

I sat up on my elbow and looked over at her. She had tears rolling down her cheeks and dropping onto the railroad planks beneath her head. This isn't how I wanted the night to end. I laid a hand on her arm, causing her eyes to snap open and lock on to my face. "It's all right," I said, "I'm not a gossip." I smiled. "If you want to keep that door closed, you can count on me to guard it for you."

She took a few deep, shaky breaths, sitting up and leaning against my shoulder as she brought her attention back to the bio-whatever critters in the pond. I let her sit there for a while, until her sniffles faded away, and the only sound left was the groaning of the frogs and the far-off chirping of crickets. I wanted her to be the one to break the silence this time, and I waited patiently until I felt her body move as she drew breath to say,

"What was it you wanted to ask me? Before I cut you off, I mean."

"Oh," I said, scratching the back of my neck, "I just wanted to ask if y'all got stars like this in the city."

She looked up at the sky, scanning back and forth across the heavens. "I never looked at the stars back home," she said, "I was always inside at night."

"Well, then, you'd better take 'em all in," I said, "because come next month there'll be a whole new set." She muttered something I couldn't hear, but she kept looking up at the stars. She still had her cotton candy in her hand, the pink fluff tantalizingly close to my hand. _I_ reeeally _want some of that…_ As carefully as I could, I reached two fingers out and tried to pinch a strand off of the bottom of the clump, where she hadn't bitten it. As I tugged on the sugar treat, though, her head snapped around to me.

"Are you trying to steal my cotton candy?"

"Well, it's just sitting there getting stale, and _you_ weren't eating it, so I figured I'd just take a little off the side so it—"

"Didn't they teach you country bumpkins not to mess with a lady's food?" An enormous, flirty smile spread across her face as she tore a huge chunk of cotton candy off the stick and stuffed it into her mouth. It puffed up her cheeks and made her lips purse up into a tiny button. Through the mouthful of sticky sugar, she managed to say, "And here I thought at least _one_ man in this town had some culture!"

I smiled back at her. "Says the girl talking with her mouth full!" I reached for her candy again, but she held it away from me at an arms length. I poked her in the side, causing her to squeal and tuck her arms into her sides. I seized my chance and grabbed a sizable chunk of the candy and stuffed it into my mouth before she could react. She gasped, mouth gaping at me in shock as I chewed away at the sticky sugar, taunting her with every bite.

"Oh, you asked for it, buster!" She poked me in the ribs like I had just done to her, causing me to squirm in my seat. I poked her back in response, she returned the favor, and the cycle repeated itself until we were both reduced to puddles of laughter between the rails of the train tracks.

As our laughter died down, she pulled out her phone and clicked the screen on. In the dim light, I saw her eyes widen in shock. "Shoot! I'm late!" She scrambled to her feet. "I said I'd be home at 11 and it's almost midnight!"

I stood up to go, brushing myself off. When I went to lead her back, though, she glided up to me and stood up on her toes and kissed me. Her lips were cool and soft, and they tasted sweet, a mixture of cotton candy and vanilla. It wasn't a long kiss, but it felt like it could have lasted a lifetime, and when she rocked back off her toes and broke our lips apart her face was flushed crimson like I'd never seen it before.

"I just…" she said, finger-combing a few loose bangs out of her face. "Thank you…for tonight. It was the best time I've had in forever. I'd really like to do it again, really soon." I nodded stupidly. She smiled. "And, thank you for feeling comfortable sharing with me…about Tay. It really means a lot."

I was still speechless, in shock from how forward she had just been. "It's…nothing," I managed to say, breathless.

She re-adjusted her braid on her shoulder. "I'll get home on my own," she said, looking at the pond again. "I want you to…to have some time here by yourself. Maybe talk with Tay for a while." She looked back up at me. "I can find my way back."

She dipped into the cattails. "Elsa!" I called after her. Her head re-appeared from amongst the reeds. I shook my head, my jaw slack. "Th-thank _you_…for…"

She smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, ducking away again.

"Wait, wait!" She leaned back out. "And I promise we'll do this again…As many times as you want!" She smiled again, slipping away once more. "And!" Her head poked through the reeds a third time. "I'm sorry about your leggings," I said, exasperated, "I really will buy you a new pair if you want."

She giggled daintily, putting a hand over her mouth. "I think I'll keep them," she said, "what's wrong with a little bit of mud?" She disappeared again, but this time I didn't have anything that came to mind to call her back.

I turned back to the glowing critters in the pond. _Some time alone with Tay…_ But I didn't want time with Tay, I wanted time with _her_. There was so much more to that girl than I could even imagine. And tonight, even if Tay were standing right here, I wouldn't want to stay another minute without her.

Because she made this the place I wanted to be, not the glowing pond or the memories of my childhood.

A sweet little something, a mid-night kiss. On a plane, or a train, or way back in the sticks.

"_I'd really like to do it again, really soon._""

"Yep, yep," I hollered, pumping my fist in the air.

That's where it's at.


	3. Chapter 3

_2 years later…_

It wasn't spring in Aarondale until you went swimming somewhere. April was usually the month in which it finally got warm enough to justify going to a pond or a river to cool off, and today was the ideal day for that. It was tipping eighty-five, and it was _so_ dry. It was the kind of heat that came from there being no clouds hanging in the sky, and the sky could not have been a brighter shade of blue. As cliché as it is to say, the color reminded me of only one thing; her eyes. Though the air was so hot, the expansive country sky that sprawled out overhead looked icy cool. I could have spent days just soaking it in.

I eased the rusty old truck to a stop by a knotted willow tree and threw it into park. It was sad to feel the A/C whine down, even though it had only been pitifully choking out not-so-cool dust the whole time we were driving. It was a mental thing; knowing the air was moving made us feel cooler than we actually were, even if it wasn't actually cold. _Cold_. She never felt cold, she always complained that it was too hot. Even in the winter, when it dipped down into the teens, she would complain about being warm all the time. She wore sweaters to school, but she'd take them off as soon as possible. If I had to guess, her godparents wouldn't let her out of the house unless she had one on. But, it was springtime now, and that meant it was actually going to get hot, and it was going to happen _quick_.

"Here we are," I said, looking across the front seat at her. She was looking pensively out the window, her braided hair draped over her shoulder like ribbon. She had the faintest smile on her face, and there were small drops of sweat beaded on her temples and upper lip that made her skin glisten like polished marble. I watched a droplet roll down her cheek and onto her neck, sliding down her chest until it met the black-green fabric of her bathing suit top. She looked too beautiful to be real. Some days, when I'd see her walk away into class or up her front steps when I'd bring her home, I'd find myself afraid that she would just…disappear. Like a dream, or a ghost.

I gave her a light tap on the arm. She seemed startled. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, "I must have spaced out." She tucked some loose hair behind her ear with her left hand, and I watched her dainty fingers bend and curl with flawless grace. _Perfect, I think I was right._ She looked from me to the pond and back. "Are we here?"

I laughed. "Yep, yep," I said grabbing the cooler off the floor and hopping out of my door, "last one in's a rotten egg!" She scoffed playfully, opening her door as well and collecting the towels and picnic blanket from the seat between us. I was long gone by the time she'd shut her door, already having dropped off the cooler by the base of the willow tree and hung my shirt on one of the low branches. "_Geronimo!_" I leaped from the top of the declined bank out over the pond, tucking my knees into my chest. I hit the water hard, its frigidness catching me completely off guard. I felt my bottom slam into the muddy floor of the swimming hole, and I powered my legs down and exploded back up into the air with a holler.

"You all right?" I rubbed the water from my eyes and looked back up the bank to where she had called to me from. My feet landed back on the bottom of the pond, leaving me standing in water that rose to just below my chest. I was gasping and whooping, trying to adjust to the shock of how cold it was. She shook her head and laughed, slipping off the running shorts she had been wearing over her suit bottom and spreading out the picnic blanket. I stood in the cold water, shivering and praying she wouldn't need to open the cooler yet. That needed to wait until _much_ later.

"Are you c-c-coming in or n-no?" I asked, my voice shaking uncontrollably from the temperature of the water.

"Is it a little cold?"

"M-maybe a little," replied sheepishly, "maybe I c-could have _not_ j-jumped in like that."

She smiled a small smile. "I'm sure it's fine," she said, turning and making her way down the small bank towards the water. She grabbed her braid and started winding it up around the back of her head, prepping the hairband she had been wearing around her wrist to fasten it into a bun. Her figure was starkly silhouetted by the deep green grass of the bank she stood on, and with her arms up behind her head, there was nothing to disguise the curve of her waist and the swing of her hips as she glided towards the pond. I felt my heart cartwheel into my throat; _It's really today, isn't it?_

She stepped into the water and I watched a wave of relaxation wash over her face. "Oh, you wuss, this is _perfect_," she said, finishing the construction of the bun in her hair and dipping her hands into the water.

"Says the Ice Queen over here," I jawed back playfully, "Miss 'It's Too Hot In Here.'"

She scooped up handfuls of water and let them run down her arms. "It's always too hot," she said, "you're just not as perceptive as me." I cocked my arm back and launched an enormous wave of pond water towards her. It crashed into her midriff, causing her to yelp in surprise. She looked up at me slowly, her mouth open in disbelief.

"What? I'm helping cool you off!"

A playful grin spread across her face. "You did _not_…" She splashed some water back at me, to which I responded with another enormous wave. She laughed loudly, continuing to slap tiny handfuls of water in my direction. She was so much fun when she laughed, when she smiled with me. There had been times when I would wonder if she had forgotten how to smile, or if someone had stolen her laughter from her. There had been so many nights spent on the phone with her, just listening to her crying, telling her that she was safe and everything was under her control. She needed love, and she needed to trust. When she felt loved, she was a different person She was _this_ girl, right in front of me; this girl who was splashing water in my face, the girl who had nearly passed out laughing at how I sounded talking on helium, the girl who had tickled me to tears on the train tracks outside the county fair. _If only_ she _could see this side of herself, it would make such a difference_.

Our splash fight ended with me throwing her over my shoulder and, despite her laughter-laden pleas for mercy, dunking the both of us into pond. When we resurfaced, even she was gasping and whooping the way I was, and I dropped her down onto her feet so she could have full use of her arms to adjust her hair. "Oh, my God," she said, pulling the hairband out of her unravelling bun, "now my hair's going to be a wreck!" Her braid flopped heavily out of its coil and she flipped it back over her shoulder, running her hands along it and squeezing some of the water out.

"Your hair looks fine, Elsa," I said, taking hold of her hands and putting them around the back of my neck, "come here and hold on." She locked her fingers together and I shoved off the bottom of the pond and began swimming backwards towards the center, dragging her along with me. I swam out until my feet no longer touched the mud below and stopped, letting my body float up to the surface.

"What are we out here for?" she asked.

"To spend time together," I said, "what else?" I paddled my arms gently, bobbing up and down in the water. She let go of my shoulders and started treading water, looking up at me through a raised eyebrow. "What's that look for?"

"You seem…preoccupied. Is everything okay?"

_It's more than okay! It couldn't be more perfect!_ "Yea, silly, of course it is!" I kicked towards her and took hold of her waist. "Why do you ask?"

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders again, and I tread water to keep the both of us afloat. "I have this feeling that you have something on your mind, is all," she said slowly, looking down at the water past my left shoulder. "This whole thing really came up out of nowhere."

She was right. I had sprung the idea of a picnic by the pond on her over the phone last night. And she wasn't wrong about having something on my mind either, it just wasn't something she was expecting. I smiled. "You never do well with last minute change," I said, "being spontaneous is a part of life." She pursed her lips into a half-frown, half-smirk. I started propelling myself backwards through the water in large, swooping circles, letting my legs bump against hers as they dragged lazily through the water. "I do have something to talk with you about though."

"What is it?" Her question practically cut off the last word of my sentence. She was staring intensely at me, nibbling nervously on the inside of her lower lip.

I furrowed my brow, tilting my head to the side. "Well," I said slowly, "I've been thinking a lot about what I'm going to do next year." I shook my head. "Can you believe it?" I asked rhetorically, "I'm _actually_ graduating." My pa hadn't, he'd taken over the farm from his dad who had died of cardiac arrest. My ma had, but she didn't pass with flying colors. I was actually doing well, too. Top forty in a class of two hundred was better than she had done, and the best ranking I had ever received. Of course, I owed it all to Elsa. She was merciless with making sure I did my work and studied hard. We'd had one or two fights about my tendency to…well, "_fuck around_" is what I would say it is. Football and friends were so much more compelling than arithmetic and social studies, though; I don't see how anyone in their right mind could blame me.

I returned to my original train of thought. "So, I'll have to decide what it is I want to do with myself. Honestly, and you know this, I'm not really sure what it is I'm feeling like I _want_." I paddled away from the reeds I had been approaching and towards the center of the pond again. "There are a few things that I know for sure, but there's still so much I'm not really one hundred percent ready to commit to."

"What is it that you know?" She sounded eager, but in a desperate way. I hated that I was doing this to her, but if I had guessed right, everything was going to turn out for the better. Her tone was evidence that I was on the right track.

I took a deep breath. "Well, I know that I'm not going to college," I said, "Pop's going to have to accept I'm not going to become a football legend; schools don't want an outside linebacker with the injury history I've got." Both knees busted, two tendons snapped, three broken foot-bones, and a hernia. It was a miracle I was still in one piece. "And my grades aren't good enough for anywhere but a community school."

"That's not true," she said, "you could get into plenty of places; state schools would love to have you!"

"If I go to school, I'll lose precious time getting my own farm started," I said, "I want to grow my own crops and sell them to a grocery distributer. There's good money in organic foods, if you get there first. If I don't get working soon, I won't have anything to build the rest of my life on." I started another lap of the pond. "I don't want to stay here, Elsa; this town can't measure up to what I want to be. I love my Pop and my Momma, but they're just not where I want to be. It may not seem like it, but this is a big dream to have, and I don't want to be held back here if I can help it."

Her face dropped. I fought to bite my tongue and keep from ruining my plan, and it hurt like no injury ever did. "Held back," she echoed, "right…"

"What?" I asked innocently.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Do…do your parents know that you want to leave? Your dad seems pretty sure you'll be taking over the farm for him."

"I'll tell him tomorrow," I said, "but that's not what I'm worried about right now." I stopped paddling, having reached a shallow portion of the pond close to the bank where our picnic was set up, and stood in the mud. It was still deep, the water reaching my shoulders, so she was floating in front of me with her arms still draped around the back of my neck. I reached up and took hold of her forearms. "I'm worried about you; did I say something?"

She held my gaze for a long time, then her focus broke and her eyes whizzed across my face like they were tracking a fly. She pulled her hands away from me and floated towards shallower water where she could stand too. "You…I guess, no," she said, "you didn't really say anything explicitly." She sank low into the water, letting the ripples kiss the underside of her chin. "It's just…graduating has been on my mind a lot too."

"You've still got another year," I said, "that's a long time. If you're worried about valedictorian, I'm sure—"

"That's not why it's on my mind," she said, slightly snappily. I closed my mouth immediately. She breathed heavily. "I'm thinking about you being gone. It's been really…" She shook her head. "Hearing you talk about how you feel held back here; I'd always sort of known that—"

"What are you saying?"

"Look, if you brought me out here just to—"

"To what? What do you think I was saying to you?"

"If you feel held back, you could have just told me!" She was standing up now, in much shallower water; I could see beneath the surface that her hands were balled up into fists. "You could have just said so, you didn't have to bring me out here and make a picnic basket and ruin my hair and—"

"Hey! Hey!" She stopped, her mouth quivering in a heavy frown. I put up two hands and motioned for her to calm down. "Come here for a second," I said softly, "I have more to say."

"No," she said, gurgling and abrupt.

"Please," I said, "you didn't let me finish; just trust me, okay?" She stood statuesque in the waist-deep water. I sighed, taking a few steps towards her. "Or, I can come to you," I said, "whatever works." I walked over to her and reached for her hand, but she stepped back and crossed her arms over her midriff, hiding her hands from me. I took a deep breath. "What I was going to say next," I began, "was that not everything here felt like it was holding me back. That thing was what was causing so much uncertainty, because it was something I had no way to be sure that it would enter the fold of what I planned on doing next. So, before I decided anything, I wanted it to be crystal clear."

She was still recoiled from my presence, one or two tears sliding down her cheek as she blinked them away. She looked sad, yes, but I could tell that I had her full attention; she wanted to know what it was I was trying to say to her.

"So," I continued, "that is why we are where we are today." I opened up my arms. "I wanted a nice, quiet place to just be together and work something out. It was going to be hot, so I figured swimming would be nice, and here we are."

"So, what," she said shortly, "what are we working out."

I dropped my arms to my sides. "Us." I rolled my eyes quickly. "I know you probably figured that out by now, but I wasn't trying to keep it a secret." _I don't want to lie to you, but I promise you don't need to be upset because of it_. "I already know what it is I want to say to you, do you have any thoughts about 'us' that you've been sitting on?" She didn't shake her head, but she didn't start talking either. I sighed. "Well," I said, "here's what I think…"

"When I first saw you, I didn't know what to make of you. Growing up here, all you hear about city folk is that they have loads of money and they don't know what it means to live a fulfilling life. You were so timid and quiet, not at all what I was expecting. Nobody could get in, it was like you were just _trying_ to push people away. But then, you started talking to me. It was so strange; around others you were still cold and distant, but if we were ever alone, you became someone…amazing. You laughed, you smiled. It was addicting, I wanted more of you. I wanted to learn about you and hear your life and just show you that you didn't need to be afraid to be yourself.

"Do you remember our first date? Now, I don't mean that crummy cup of coffee, I mean our _real_ first date. We barely new anything about each other, and you shared with me something nobody else knew, like _that_." I snapped my fingers to accentuate my point. "And I still haven't told anyone. I felt like you trusted me more than anyone in this town, and I made it my goal to be that person for you. I wanted to be the one to show you that people can be open, and can be loving. I wanted you to see that the person you _really_ are is someone who can laugh and have fun and be free to do what she pleases.

"And here is where I struggle…I want to leave, but I can't just _leave_ you. I know I've said a lot about how I want you to need me, but the fact is, _I_ need _you_ more. I need you to keep me going. I need you to help when I'm feeling down. I need you to level me off and keep me calm and fill in the gaps where I come up short. Without you in my life, I wouldn't be in the place I am, I wouldn't be dreaming so big. Thanks to you, I _want_ things, I feel like my life has a meaning. You give me hope that I might just be able to end up…"

I paused. I knew I was going to get worked up if I started talking about this; she would know what I was trying to say, but even without using the words I still couldn't stop my pulse from pounding. Childhood had been rough, but I just thought that was the way things worked. Then, as I got older, and I was allowed to stay the nights at my school friends' houses, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Since I had met _her_, though, there wasn't even an inkling of doubt in my mind. I clenched my fist and spoke through gritted teeth.

"You've proven to me that what _he_ does is _wrong_."

There were a few moments of silence as I let that sentence hang over the pond. She was pulling on the end of her braid nervously, chewing on her lower lip. I closed my eyes and sighed deeply, shaking my head. "So," I said quietly, "I want to free myself from that. I want to get away from here and do things the way they _should_ be done. And there is the crux of my hangup; I can't leave you, but you are the reason I want to leave. I know it's not the best explanation, but please try to understand. You are both what keeps me here and what makes me want to dream beyond Aarondale. And so I'm being pulled in two different directions, you see? That's what I brought you out here for; I wanted to tell you all about where my mind's been for the past couple weeks."

She shuffled her feet in the water. "So?" The question was simple, but clear. _Tell me what comes next._

"So…now I tell you what I need you to decide for me." She narrowed her eyes. "Obviously, I can't make the choice on my own. I figured, who better to help me than the only woman I would give my life for."

"You are _not_ asking me to do that right." The words bit at me like dogs. "You are _not_ seriously putting that on _me_. After _all that_, you're going to make _me_—"

"Don't jump to conclusions, I haven't explained what I'm asking yet." I took a couple steps towards her. "Go look in the cooler, and then it'll all make sense."

She looked over her shoulder, then back at me. She turned and strode back up the hill towards our picnic gear. I took another step towards shore as she undid the childproof clasp and flipped open the lid. I smiled when she froze in place. It was like life was in slow motion as she looked back towards me, eyes wider than the full moon. "We're too young…"

I folded my arms and shrugged. "It's a promise, for now; we could wait as long as we need after that."

She squatted down and picked up the object from on top of the collection of food. "I thought—"

"I knew you _would_ think that, Elsa; it never even crossed my mind to leave you behind. I meant every word I said. I need you more than you know, and what pulls me apart at night is wondering if you would be willing to let me be with you as long as I can." I paused while she dropped the thing she had just taken from the cooler back into the container and slammed the lid shut. "So, what I'm asking you is, basically; will y—"

My words were cut off as she vaulted down the riverbank and flew into my arms. She thudded heavily into my chest and sent me sprawling back into the shallows of the pond, scrambling to resurface and breathe, and when my head broke through the water it was immediately grabbed with fierce determination. The hands on my cheeks were cool and soft, slightly wrinkled from their time in the water, and they pulled my chin up towards the approaching shadow that filled my water-clouded vision. I tried to ask what she had done that for, but my mouth was unable to move. My lips had been commandeered by the most intimate, purposeful kiss I had ever experienced. It didn't matter that I couldn't see through the pond-scum film that had coated my eyes, because my eyes were closed. I was enthralled in this moment.

Every sense was exploding with ecstasy. The touch of her wet braid on my shoulder, her tongue dancing between my lips, the cold water frothing all over me; these things made my spine tingle and my hands go numb. The vanilla of her lip gloss was like candy to me now, its smell filling my nose and drawing me towards her for another chance to let it wash into my brain. The inside of my eyelids wasn't the endless nothing of sleep, it was a canvas covered in fireworks of color that erupted without so much as a moment's rest. I could hear the rhythm of her breathing as she pushed again and again for another kiss, and then another; not even songbirds sounded this beautiful.

This was unprecedented. This was totally unexpected. Yet, when she eventually leaned away, I couldn't imagine a world without it. I needed more, I needed her in my life. Something told me I would get my wish, but I wanted to hear it anyways. I opened my eyes slowly, the filmy residue mostly blinked away. She was crying, her face inches from mine as she lay on my chest astride my stomach. She had the biggest smile on her face, and every couple seconds she would choke out a sobbing chuckle. I smiled back. "So?" My question was simple, but clear.

She wiped her cheek quickly. "You're an ass," she said shakily, laughing in a short burst.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think? You could have fooled me." I was being coy because I already knew what she was thinking; she had _shown_ me what she was thinking.

"Of course, I will," she said, thumping my chest playfully. I grinned ear to ear. My world was now complete. There was no longer anywhere else that I would rather be.

Because it ain't in the water, floating like a bobber, soaking up that hot sunshine.

It's knowing that the woman you love thinks you'd make a good husband for her.

_That_, without a doubt, is where it's at.


	4. Chapter 4

_Two weeks later…_

My hands were shaking as the screen door swung shut behind me. "Come on," Elsa said hurriedly, "come here." She was already getting into the truck, the new red one Pop had bought the other day. I heard her turn the key and the engine roared to life. It was surprising that I could hear that, considering how loudly my pulse was pounding in my ears. "Come on, sweetie, let's go," she called out the passenger window. I trudged around the hood and hopped into the cab, slamming the door closed as hard as I could. Momma's car was already speeding off down the driveway as I threw the stick into reverse and started my three-point turn.

_She's gonna be safe_, I told myself, _she'll find somewhere to stay the night_. Tonight was the final straw. It's the last time Pop's going to lay a hand on Momma so long as I live. I'd given her all the money in my pocket to find herself a place to stay, and she'd gotten right out of there. _I don't want to hear she'd only been staying for my sake…_

As I twisted the wheel into its final place, I heard a shout from the porch behind us. "_Get the __**fuck**__ off my property, you ungrateful son of a bitch!_" Anything else he said was drowned out by the roar of the engine as I slammed the gas pedal to the floor and peeled out of the driveway, but that shout had cut deeper into the wound that had opened just a little under twenty minutes ago.

Elsa and I had just come home from dinner, and Pop was drunk. Momma had met us at the door with an icepack on her face, and I lost it. "Sure as hell, she took a couple," he'd said, "did you see what you did to her?" _What I did to her? What __**I **__did to her? Because I don't want your useless farm, Momma gets a black eye? Is that how it works?_ _Like __**hell**__ that's how it works!_

I'd hit him back, throwing him down through the kitchen table. He'd hopped right back up and swung at me, but he was old and sloshed; I'd sent him reeling into the sink. If the girls hadn't gotten in my way, I was ready to keep on fighting. Every night I'd hid in my room while Momma's pleas rang through the house were eating at my conscience now as I remembered standing over the grunting old man, fueling the raging inferno inside and causing my knuckles to whiten on the steering wheel. I'd always been afraid of him; even if I had managed to fool myself into thinking everything was fine, I would hear Momma shout and remember that I was terrified of him. But no more, he was going to be alone. And for the better, too.

And the things he'd said about Elsa. "That whiny bitch hangs offa you like a natty dangle berry, calling you at all hours to whine about problems I could sort out before breakfast. The fact that you believed whatever lie she's been telling you about making a fortune in the big, wide world is proof that she's just a dirty parasite that you were stupid enough to let swim up your dick and fill your head with all kinds of bullshit." How fucking _dare_ he. It's like because I treat her like a human being and not a weighted bag, he thinks I'm not a real man. The world doesn't work that way any more; another reason why I needed to get out of this backwards podunk and make something of myself.

Elsa had immediately withdrawn to the corner of the kitchen when I snapped, arms crossed around her midsection, but she had still called out to me to calm down. Momma had begged me not to hurt him, which broke my heart. She had even pushed me away with the ice pack still in her hand. While Pop was writhing on the floor, falling over his own boozed limbs trying to stand up again, I had given Momma money for a hotel. She said she'd only take it if I walked her to her car, so I did it. At least she was away from him, safe. He had no way left to get into town besides the tractor, and that thing was never going to run again. Even a John Deer can only handle so much rust. Besides, I was hoping Momma would skip town and head straight to the city, where there would be an even lesser chance of him finding her. Heck, she should just pass the city and head straight on to the Pacific Ocean for good measure. So long as she was gone, she would be safe.

"Baby? Slow down a bit, please." I gasped, suddenly aware that I was driving. My eyes instinctively leaped to the dash, and I saw that I was pushing seventy. I checked all my mirrors quickly and eased on to the brake, watching the needle drop—sixty-five…sixty…fifty…thirty-five. I took a deep breath and settled back into my seat as the truck rumbled along at a more reasonable pace. I stole a quick glance to the passenger's seat, where Elsa's white-blonde hair was glowing in the moonlight that shone through her window.

"Sorry," I said shortly, "I wasn't paying attention." The road looked familiar; it was about twenty minutes to town from here, and another twenty to Elsa's godparents' house on the other side of town. Aarondale was probably as big as a "small town" could get. There were so many farms and acres it was like everyone was connected by spiderwebs of dirt roads that could very well be longer than Interstates. I have no idea what the people who settled this place were thinking, putting everything so far apart; the firemen had to be little more than racing drivers in order to be any sort of help. Lord knows they weren't fast enough for Tay.

Elsa let out the smallest of sighs. "I figured," she mumbled, shifting in her seat. "That was…intense."

I chuckled dryly. "Say that again, why don't you." There was silence for a long time after that; I think the biting sarcasm in my response was a signal that I didn't want to think more about what had just happened. And I didn't. I wanted to leave all that behind me and forget it ever happened. I didn't want to have to remember Aarondale or Pop or his worthless farm any more.

Town came and went, all the dark storefronts and dim street lamps reminding me that Aarondale was a dump. _Serves me right for thinking I could forget about this place_. It's funny how the world works like that; wishing for one thing will always give you the opposite. Not even two minutes after thinking how nice it would be to get away, the truck rolled through town as if the world was saying, "Tough luck, idiot. This is where you are, and good luck trying to shake it."

I could feel that Elsa was staring a hole in the side of my head, but I didn't look over at her. I pulled into her driveway, just like I'd done a few hundred times before, and flicked off the headlights to coast slowly up to the house. Her godparents were early risers, which meant nine o'clock was pushing the front end of their self-imposed curfew. I'd done this crawl so many times it was like breathing to me now; headlights off, stick up to neutral, kill the engine, and cover the brake. I counted the seconds as I watched the speedometer drop down and down past ten, then I pressed the brake lightly and watched it plummet to five, then two, and finally zero as the truck eased into a stop not three feet from the garage. Just like every other time before, the passenger door lined up perfectly with the front steps, and I hadn't made a peep.

I put the gear into park and turned the key all the way off. My arms dropped heavily onto the seat on either side of me, and I let my head flop back onto the headrest. I waited for the door to open, but I never heard the click of the latch. I peered over at Elsa, who was staring blankly at the glovebox. She hadn't moved an inch since the last time one of us had spoken, aside from spinning her ring around her finger with her thumb. It was a beautiful ring, she'd been saying over and over. She'd been so happy to put it on. It had belonged to Pop's great-grandmother, who had given it to her son, whose wife had given it to Pop, and Momma had given it to me. It had three small diamonds set in a line, cut into squares and polished to a crystal clear sheen. It was modest, but it was more than enough for us.

"What?" I asked. Her head snapped up and towards the window before turning back to me.

"Oh," she said quietly, "sorry, I—"

"Wasn't paying attention," I finished her sentence. "It's fine," I continued, "I just thought you'd want to go inside and get some sleep."

Elsa looked down at the floor. "Yea," she said, biting her lower lip, "yea I do."

I gestured towards her house. "Well, we're here," I muttered, "feel free."

She still didn't move. She looked me up and down, hiding her hands deep under her arms.

"What is it? What are you waiting for?"

"I just…" She let her words trail off slowly, wriggling in her seat. "I want to know that you're okay."

I turned to face her, putting my arm on the steering wheel. "I'm fine, Elsa," I said, "I can handle it. All right?"

She took a deep breath. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Because I don't have to go yet, if you don't want me to."

"I'm fine, I can handle it, okay? If you're tired, go on inside."

"If there's anything at all, you know you can talk to me."

"I know, it's fine. Please, if you want to go, don't let me stop you."

"You're sure? Sweetie, I'm serious—"

"_Dammit_, woman!" I shouted, pounding the steering wheel as hard as I could. "If I say I'm fine, I'm fine! Just let me be! What could you know about having your family fall apart like this?"

Her face fell instantaneously, and immediately I felt mine do the same. I turned and grabbed my face, clawing at my own eyes and gritting my teeth. "Elsa," I said.

"No," heard her say softly, "it's okay, I know you didn't—"

"It's not okay!" I ripped my hands away from my face and slammed them into the dashboard, staring directly into her eyes as intensely as I could. "Don't you _ever_ say that's 'okay,' you hear me?" She looked completely closed off, and I felt my heart break. I took a deep breath. "It's _never_ okay. I'll _never_ let myself be like him."

We stared at each other for a minute or two before she turned away and pulled open the door handle. She dropped out of the cab and closed the door behind her. Her eyes barely reached the bottom of the window. She tapped gently on the glass, and I turned the key a click to roll the window down. "What're you going to do?"

I knew she was talking about my plan for the night. I shook my head. "Stay in the truck," I said, "head out into the sticks somewhere and lay down in the flatbed, I guess."

She nodded. "Okay," she said, backing away from the cab slowly. "I'll call you in the morning." She started up the front steps slowly.

"Elsa?" She paused, looking back over her shoulder. I thumped the passenger seat softly with my fist. "I'm…I'm so sorry. I know that you—"

"I'll call you in the morning," she interjected, "okay?"

I sighed heavily. "Okay." I turned the engine over and reversed the gear, twisting back over the seat to make sure I didn't back over anything. I reached the end of the driveway, and I turned back around to look at the front door. It was closed, and Elsa was gone. I flicked on the headlights and backed into my lane before shifting into drive and setting off away from town.

The shifter felt like it weighed a ton.

I just drove for a while, getting fed up with the radio almost instantly. I wasn't in the mood for Keith Urban at the moment, especially not when he was singing about being together with someone. I punched the power off and drove in silence, listening to the cylinders churn and the tires roll along the broken pavement of the roadway. The quiet was nice, but it left too many opportunities for me to replay that moment in Elsa's driveway again in my mind and pile more and more guilt onto my soul.

Then, my pocket started to buzz. I debated what I should do; it could be Pop calling to chew me out again, or it could be Momma calling to tell me she didn't have enough money to stay anywhere. I didn't want to answer it either way. I just wanted to get away from all this. I'd get a message from whoever it was, so I could just listen to that. I wasn't in the mood to talk any more. The ring stopped, and I paused to wait for the voicemail notification. I felt my pocket buzz once more, and I felt satisfied in my small victory.

But then it buzzed again. And then again. It was _still ringing_. I slowed down a bit and fumbled around to retrieve the phone from my pocket. _Why didn't they just leave a message?_ Once I checked the screen, though, my thumb couldn't have moved any faster to answer the call.

"Is everything okay?" I braked heavily, making sure nothing could distract me from this call.

The line was quiet for a second. "How far away are you?"

"Twenty minutes. What's wrong?"

More quiet. "I…We have a futon you can use…you know, if you want."

I put the truck in park. My mouth was dry. "You're…you're sure?"

"Yeah."

"It's okay with your godparents?"

"You woke them up with the truck, and they asked why I was home so early. I had to tell them."

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Elsa; I really am, from the bottom of my heart."

"You said twenty minutes?"

"Yes."

A pause. "I need you here, please."

I threw the truck into reverse at lightning speed. "I'll do it in ten."

"Make it five."

I smiled. "I love you," I said, finishing the second point of my turn, "I'll be there in two."

"I love you too, baby," Elsa said. "Drive safe, please."

"Yep, yep." She hung up first, and I tossed my phone into the passenger seat so I could crank the wheel back into position and floor the gas back towards her house. Anything I had been feeling about home was gone from my mind in that moment. Home had a new meaning for me now. Home had nothing to do with Pop any more, it had nothing to do with Aarondale. Home wasn't about being in a suped-up, shiny, red, new truck if she wasn't to my right.

Home meant Elsa now. Home meant being with my girlfr—no, not girlfriend any more.

Home meant being with my wife.


	5. Chapter 5

_One year later…_

"What?"

Elsa scoffed. "I still can't get over the fact that you decided to wear _that_ when I told you to dress well."

"This _is_ 'dressed well;' I'd wear this any time or place."

"You'd wear it to a _funeral_?"

"Okay, maybe not a _funeral_, but—"

I felt a poke in my ribs. I looked down at the redheaded girl standing on the other side of me. "It's the hat, buddy," she murmured. "I think she'd be fine if you didn't have the hat."

"Thank you, Anna," Elsa said, "for helping him understand. _I_, of all people, should know subtlety isn't his strong suit."

I eyed up my reflection in the mirrored doors of the elevator; dark blue jeans so new you could practically see the off-line crease in the leg, a maroon button-up shirt with subtle black checkered stripes, brown dress shoes polished to a shine, and my good pastel-tan Stetson hat. I'd thought wearing my roper boots might have been the thing to put Elsa off, but I hadn't considered she'd be upset by the hat. I _would_ wear this to anything but a funeral, I wasn't lying. Well, a funeral or a wedding; I'll definitely wear a tuxedo to our wedding.

"Well, it's too late to put it away now," I said, re-adjusting the fit of the brim on my forehead, "it's just going to have to be the way it is." Elsa rolled her eyes, and the elevator buzzed to signal that we had reached our floor. The doors slid open, and the three of us stepped out into the room.

It was very open, very modern. There were fogged-glass walls that sectioned off parts of it for reasons I couldn't guess at, but for the most part it was an open room of windows looking out into the skyscraper jungle of the city. There were tables and chairs all around the space, all made of glass or clear plastic. Some of them had papers and folders laid out across them, others had empty glasses and bottles of scotch, no doubt malted, and bowls of tiny mints. This must be a conference room of some sort, for business men to fiddle with their ties and talk about stocks while stuffing themselves with those TicTac-looking candies and wash it down with a glass of liquor that was probably worth more than I could dream of making in a month. And Elsa's aunt and uncle had rented the whole thing just to say "hello."

"There she _is_, my beautiful niece!" The woman that scurried over to Elsa with arms wide open was as smiley and cheerful as could be, putting in my head a humorous image of their family gatherings when Elsa was still a child. Aunt Primm, as Elsa had been calling her since this get-together was arranged last week, was slender, brunette, and quite youthful in appearance. She was Elsa's father's sister, if I remembered correctly, who had moved to Germany to live with her then-fiancé less than three years before Elsa was born. When Anna was born three years after Elsa, Primm also had a daughter, Rapunzel, and that was basically the entirety of the story Elsa had told me. I guessed that the skinny, blonde girl with exceedingly long hair that stood behind Primm and squirmed with excitement was none other than that very cousin, and the look she was giving Anna was pure bliss. Anna weaved her way around myself and her embracing family members to get to Rapunzel, and the two of them scampered off to one of the smaller sets of chairs near the window and started talking.

"It's nice to see you too, Auntie," Elsa said with some effort, patting her aunt on the back a few times. Primm released her death grip on Elsa's ribcage and held her niece at arms' length, looking her up and down. The woman was wearing a black dress with heels and a large pearl necklace. She had some ivory bangles around each wrist and her hair was pulled back from her face in a curled ponytail to reveal pearl earrings and a liberal layer of makeup. The woman sighed and looked at me.

"My, and this must be the young man right here, isn't it?" She had the faintest whisper of a foreign accent, though Elsa had told me she was raised here in the States. The way she addressed me, coupled with the subtle change in her smile as she looked me up and down as well, made me feel a pit patronized.

I tipped my hat. "It sure is, ma'am," I said, extending my hand and introducing myself. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Ooh, 'ma'am,' you say?" Primm laughed and touched Elsa's shoulder. "Sweet-heart, where ever did you find such an honest charmer? And quite the looker, too, if you don't mind me saying." Elsa chuckled uncomfortably, rubbing her thigh lightly through the fabric of her dress.

She had been so worried about what to wear today; she must have asked me to choose between ten or eleven different dresses. Not only was it about what dress to wear, but also what shoes, and which necklace, and what earrings. And then if I told her one dress, it meant I couldn't pick these shoes or those accessories, and if I managed to match the shoes and dress she would look at her jewelry and tell me she didn't have anything to match and make me start all over. Thankfully, Anna showed up and helped me out a bit, but I told Elsa over and over that she should just wear whatever _she_ wanted to wear, because I liked everything on her. Finally, she'd settled on this dark teal dress with short black sleeves and a golden headband to hold her hair away from her face. I liked it when she let her hair down, it made her look less stressed and more approachable. Don't get me wrong, I love it when she has it braided and slung over her shoulder, and nothing could ever match the elegance of the updo she wore to the dance, but something about when she had walked over to me and asked me to finish zipping her up while finger-combing her long, platinum hair off the back of her neck made my heart flutter and my cheeks burn even now, hours after the fact.

Primm clapped her hands together. "Well," she said, "let me see it!" Elsa looked at me quickly, pitifully. "Come now, don't be shy! I just _have_ to see it!" Elsa slowly lifted her hand up to Primm, who took it and shoved her face into it. "Oh, my God," the woman exclaimed, "how absolutely _gorgeous_!" She looked at me. "You, young man, chose a _beautiful_ ring! Was it an heirloom?"

I nodded. "My great-grandfather proposed to his wife with it, and it's been working its way through every man in the family."

"How precious," Primm said sweetly, smiling and turning back to Elsa's hand. "What a sweet-heart, Elsa. You'll do well to hold on to this one." She laughed, and Elsa gave me a look that couldn't have been mistaken for anything but: _Kill me now._ I frowned her way, trying to offer my sympathies as best I could without saying anything. "Come now, we have _lady things_ to discuss." Primm tugged hard on Elsa's hand and dragged her away to the far end of the conference room, leaving me standing alone with the only person left: Elsa's uncle.

He was a big man; wide, not tall. He had a goatee beard and short, black hair that was beginning to thin out around his forehead. He was dressed in a suit that seemed to be too tight for him, but through some miracle he had managed to squeeze into it anyways. He stepped forward and extended his hand to me. "My name is der Kaiser, Friedrich der Kaiser; it is a pleasure to meet you." Uncle Friedrich was a very successful businessman, so Elsa had told me. He owned a company that manufactured pharmaceuticals, so he was always in business, and always profitable.

I shook his hand and introduced myself formally. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"_Herr_, my boy," he said quickly, "not 'sir', _Herr_ der Kaiser." His accent was thick and noticeable; he was definitely German. He spoke English well enough, but it was very apparent he had not been to the States in a very long time, if ever.

I nodded my head. "Sure thing, _Herr_," I said, "not a problem at all."

Friedrich nodded once, seemingly satisfied, and looked over to the corner where Elsa and Primm had gone. "Marriage," he said slowly, thoughtfully. "That corner is full of _marriage_." He turned back to me. "It is a funny game, son; marriage. You will play it too, soon enough."

This stream of words was nonsense to me. "I'm sure it is, _Herr_," I said, trying to keep him occupied to see if the clock would move faster the more he spoke.

He seemed to be satisfied with my response, but his attention was being collected by something that was going on over my shoulder. "_Rapunzel!_" I turned to see Anna and her cousin fooling around with the bottle of scotch by the window. "_Berühre das nicht!_" The girl looked sheepish, and returned the bottle to its original position. Freidrich shook his head. "My apologies," he said, "the girl is too curious for her own good."

"That's quite all right," I said. I ran my fingers along the brim of my hat. "She's only a kid."

Freidrich scoffed. "So she is," he said. There was a moment or two of silence, but then the squat man drew breath again and I gave him my attention. "You are not much more than a child yourself," he said, "I hope you know that you have made a heavy promise to that girl over there." He looked over to Elsa, who was standing silently as Primm talked at her.

"I know, Herr," I said, "I'm ready for that commitment."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? So confident." He rubbed his nose. "For barely being a man, you have quite the strong mindset."

"Barely a man?"

He nodded. "You are both so young," he said. "We have a saying, in _Deutch_, for when two young people first grow fond of each other. We say, '_Sie haben einen Knutschfleck._' It means they have been…" He inhaled deeply, searching his brain for words. "They have the 'bite of love.' Yes, 'bite of love' would be the best way to put it. The first emotion connection, the first time their eyes meet. It is a strong bite, but it takes something special to turn that bite into _wahre Liebe_, 'true love.'" He put a hand on my shoulder. "You have to understand your partner, feel with them. I know how much Elsa has been keeping hidden; it is probably bothering you to know so little about her."

I shrugged his hand off of me. "Excuse me?"

He looked at me, startled. "I am just saying, as her uncle, that I need to be satisfied with how much of her you know. I can say that she is by no means an easy person to spend time with."

I crossed my arms over my chest. I could feel a vein swell up in my neck. "Lemme ask you something," I said. "Just…just _one_ question, and see if you can answer it." Friedrich copied my gesture, folding his arms in turn. I ran my tongue across my lips.

"How many times has Elsa come to me in tears because she's afraid of being alone?"

Friedrich appeared to stop breathing. After a few seconds of silence, I spoke again.

"Maybe that was too tough for you; let me try another. How many days has Elsa skipped school so she could be home to make sure Anna would actually make it back?"

Still no response.

"How many hours has she spent trying to trick herself into believing her parents were still alive?"

Nothing.

"How long did it take for her to stop being afraid of seeing other people after her parents died?"

A bead of sweat dropped down his temple.

"How many phone calls have I gotten from her, in tears, at one in the morning, because _you_, _and_ your wife, forgot to call her again? On Christmas? Easter? Her _birthday_? The anniversary of her parents' death?"

He flapped his jaw stupidly, nothing coming out. I furrowed my brow.

"What color are her eyes?"

He looked to the floor.

"What's her middle name?"

He started wringing his fingers. I sighed.

"Can you even _guess_ at her favorite color?"

His head snapped up. "Don't mock me, boy," he said, "I can do more than guess; it's green."

"You're _wrong_." The look on his face was one of rage and defeat. I pointed a finger at him. "The nerve you have, to say to me that I don't know Elsa well enough to marry her, makes me sick. And to imply that, because I'm younger and less experienced than you, I'm not ready to start a family is ridiculous; especially when, even with all your experience and your wisdom of years, I'm miles ahead of you when it comes to knowing who Elsa is."

He frowned something fierce. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, striding past me towards the elevator, "I have forgotten something in my car."

"I hope it's your uncle's license," I retorted as he pressed the call button for the elevator, "because it sure would be embarrassing if you were carrying it just now; Elsa's _real_ family would _never_ get shown up by a _kid_ like me, I'm sure."

The elevator doors pinged open and Friedrich stepped inside. He reached over to the button tree and held his hand there, presumably keeping the doors open. "_Rapunzel,_" he called, "_komme her, schnell._"

The blonde girl looked up from her conversation with Anna and slumped her shoulders. "_Vater,_" she replied, "_ich möchte hier mit Anna zu bleiben!_"

"_Kommen Sie her, Mädchen! Jetzt!_" Friedrich pointed his finger so powerfully towards the ground he could have probably ripped the elevator loose of its cables. Rapunzel's face shrunk into her shoulders and she said a quick goodbye to Anna before scurrying off to her father's side. The elevator doors slid shut, and they were gone. I sighed, making my way to a section of the window and leaning against the glass, staring down at the city below.

I got lost in the bustle of it all. Cars of every color sliding around the streets like water through a straw, moving on with their days like clockwork. The people looked so small from up here, too; tiny ants marching to and fro, carrying their work and their food as they droned along to their next task without any hesitation or resistance. It really was a different world in the city. So fast-paced, so busy. Just looking at it all made me feel nauseous, or maybe that was just vertigo. I wasn't sure, but I knew that it wasn't for me.

"What'cha looking at?" I was torn away from my thoughts by Anna's spritely voice, which had appeared to my side very suddenly. The littler redhead girl had pressed her forehead to the window, peering down the side of the building eagerly.

I re-adjusted my hat on my head. I huffed, "A good time, I guess. I was just sort of looking around. We drove three hours to get here, we ain't just gonna leave after this; I'm going to make a day of it for the two of you."

"Really?" Anna peeled her face off the window and looked up at me. "What did you have in mind?"

"I dunno…Shopping, dinner, sightseeing. Basically whatever Elsa wants to do; I know she's been really stressing about this meeting for a week or two." I shrugged. "I hope you don't mind playing third wheel to us."

"No, no, I don't mind," Anna said, turning back to the window, "so long as you're paying, I'll do whatever you want. Plus, you're my ride home, so I can't just ditch the two of you, ether."

I laughed. "I'm glad you're a flexible person when it comes to plans. Sometimes I wonder how the two of you are related."

"You don't mean that," Anna said, "you of all people know that Elsa and I are pretty much the same, Elsa's just a little tougher to crack than I am." I raised an eyebrow; she wasn't wrong. I looked over at Elsa, who was still talking to Primm. The older woman seemed to be getting more and more excited, which was only serving to make Elsa more and more sheepish. "Anyways," Anna said, reclaiming my attention, "what'd you say to Uncle Freddy that made him get all grumpy?"

"Oh," I said, "he just pushed my buttons is all; tried telling me I shouldn't marry Elsa because I was too young and didn't know enough about her. I proved I knew acres more than he did, and he stormed off in a huff." I screeched the back of my neck. "Sorry he took your cousin with him."

"Ah, it's okay," Anna said, "Uncle Fred's always been uptight; he works all the time, it's like he's always in overdrive."

"I can tell." The younger girl left the window and made her way to a nearby pair of chairs. I followed her. "So, you and Rapunzel seem to be pretty good friends. Do you see her often?"

Anna wrinkled her nose. "We Skype when we can; it's tough, with the time difference. I hadn't seen her in person since before Mom and Dad died, but we say in touch as best we can. She's really cool, and she's got a pet chameleon."

"A chameleon?" I raised my eyebrow again. "How'd she get one of those? Aren't they zoo critters?"

Anna shrugged. "Uncle Fred brought it home one day and gave it to Punzie, I never asked why. Its name is Pascal, and she managed to bring it with her. I'm excited to play with it."

"That should be fun," I said. "They'll be staying through the wedding, then? Just like they planned?"

"Punzie and Auntie Primm are going to stay, but Uncle Freddy had a last-minute meeting come up, so he's flying back to Kiel in a couple of days." I nodded my head. _I wonder if Elsa knows that._ I'm sure Primm has told her by now, considering how long they had been chatting for by now.

I had small talk with Anna until finally Primm brought Elsa over to us and announced that she had to get going. "My husband seems to have already made his way out," she said, "so I think I'll get going too." She touched my shoulder gently. "It was wonderful to meet you," she said, "we'll have to chat at some point before we start planning the rehearsal; I'd love to get to know you better."

"Can-do, ma'am," I said, tipping my hat to her, "drive safe tonight." Primm giggled and said something about how charming I was, and she spun towards the elevator and headed down to the garage. I stood up from my chair and faced Elsa, taking in the way she was carrying herself.

She looked absolutely and totally exhausted. Her face was long and her eyes were droopy. Her shoulders slumped heavily and her posture was lazy and improper. I pursed my lips, taking a hold of her shoulders. She looked me in the eyes, the crystal blue oceans of her pupils swimming with agitation and humiliation. "God dammit," she whispered, "if I never see her again, it'll be too soon."

I smiled. "I could say the same for your uncle," I joked softly, pulling her in for a hug. She never swore, not even "dammit"; she had to have been on her very last ropes with that woman in order to use language like that. I rubbed her back gently, hoping to help ease away some of the stress and the pain.

"What about my uncle?" Her voice was muffled in my shirt.

"Oh," I said, "he tried to tell me not to marry you, so I told him to go to Hell."

Elsa wriggled her face free of the fabric of my shirt and looked up my chest into my eyes. My pulse quickened as I looked down at her. "Did you really?"

I shook my head. "No, not really."

She groaned, flopping her face back into my chest. "Ugh, I wish you _had_." Her arms reached around my torso and took hold of my lower back, squeezing it lightly as she drew another deep breath. "I hate seeing the two of them; it reminds me how much my family doesn't want any part of my life."

"Hey! Don't say that!" I separated us enough to look her in the eye. "The two of them do care for you, whether you realize it or not. They're your _family_, and they _do_ love you. They're just…not doing it right." I shook my head. "And you have every right to be mad at them for that, but don't ever think they don't love you."

Elsa's eyes dropped to the floor. "I just wish the people who loved me could just _show_ me without all the crap, or waiting until I get married, or whatever. They shouldn't need an excuse to start caring again." Her fingers dug into my skin slightly. She tucked her chin into my chest, muffling the sentence she whispered to me next. "They need to…to be more like you."

I felt my chest swell with emotion. I felt proud, I felt humbled, I felt like I had just saved the day. I kissed Elsa on the top of the head. "That would make life too easy for you," I said coyly. "And, besides—" I whispered into her ear "—if everyone was like me, how would you know which one to get married to?"

She laughed quickly; a short, powerful pop that broke across my chest and rippled my sleeve. She looked up at me and smiled, pulling my hips into her stomach and stretching up to kiss me. Smiled back and bent down to meet her halfway. She still tasted like vanilla, just like she always did; I bet a month from now she'd still be wearing that same lip gloss, especially since the rest of her outfit would be white and pristine like the vanilla ice cream she likes so much. I always tell her to branch out and try some more interesting flavors, but she insists on the pure white vanilla every time. I don't complain too much, though; vanilla looks the cutest when she accidentally gets some on the tip of her nose.

"Pardon me, lovebirds, but I was promised free food?" Anna's sassy voice broke apart our intimacy, and we looked over to see the younger girl holding open the elevator doors.

"Free food?" Elsa looked at me in surprise.

I smiled. "My treat," I said. "Pick anywhere you want to go for dinner."

Elsa's face became one of deep reflection. "Anywhere, hmm?" She tapped her chin with her forefinger.

This couldn't be good news.

"Well," I said, "_basically_ anywhere…within reason."

Anna gasped. "You weasel! You said 'anywhere,' you can't just back down!"

Elsa laughed. "Don't worry, baby, I'll try and keep it reasonable." She took my hand and led me to the elevator, which we entered and punched in the button for the ground floor.

As the doors slid shut in front of my face, I reflected on everything that had just happened. From meeting Primm and Friedrich, to what Friedrich had tried to tell me, to what Elsa had said while I hugged her. It had been quite the roller coaster of emotion, but there was one thought in my mind that I kept coming back to over and over:

Family ain't in a high-rise, looking for a good time, shutting down the city lights. Family is loving someone through the good times and the bad, when it's easy and when it's inconvenient. That, right there, is what family is.

That, right there, is where it's at.


	6. Chapter 6

_One year later…_

I had gotten the impression that all of this town's bars got awful full come six o' clock. Except, apparently, this one. "Creaky Wheel," I think the name was. They didn't I.D., they didn't ask why you were there, they didn't try to be cute with what they had to offer. They sold beer, scotch, and rum. They asked if you wanted a bottle or a glass, gave it to you, and left you alone. Knock once for a refill, twice to change drinks, and three times for the check. Simple, quiet, and affordable. And, for whatever reason, I was the only one here tonight.

I'd been the _only one_ here, _every_ night, for the past week or so.

I mean, the place _was_ a bit of a dive. The wood was cracked and creaky, the chairs were old and busted with chunks of the foam pads missing, the stools sounded like machine guns when you tried to swivel. The bartender had a lazy eye that jiggled when he turned his head. The faux-old-timey country being pumped through the speakers sounded like it was being run through a tin can. _Not like the Roues Brothers were going to sound good, anyways_. I realized on my first night here the glasses were hard-water stained to Hell; I'd stuck to the bottles pretty religiously. Yep, the place was the definition of a dive bar, but it's what I wanted. I wanted to drink and not think about the contracts or the money or if we'd _ever_ get settled down in that damn house.

I pressed the cold bottle of Coors to my lips and downed a swill. I wished they sold more European beers in this part of the country. I was still a year off from being able to buy anything legally, so I'd just been taking what was given and not asking questions, but I had been spoiled through high school with my buddies' Guinness and Heineken, and American brews just tasted so weak in comparison. But, everyone was so proud of their "down-home" drinks, they weren't willing to let the old world back onto the scene. I took a sip of water to clean out my mouth before I stuffed a handful of pre-shelled peanuts into it. I _also_ wished this place served actual food, but, again, I wasn't going to complain. Anything that disrupted the tranquility and invisibility of this joint was something I wanted to avoid. I liked being the only one here, the only customer to come in each night. I had all the beers to myself, all the peanuts I could eat, and all the opportunity I needed to be alone. I didn't want that to change in any way.

The tinkling of the bell hung by the door, however, begged to differ.

This was the first time in nearly two weeks I'd heard that sound while I was still drinking; the only other times being on my way in and on my way out. The bartender rolled his lazy eye towards the door, and I peered out of my lonely booth across from the counter and did the same.

_What in the Hell…?_

"What're ya havin'?" the bartender asked, leaning on the counter tiredly. He didn't get a straight answer right away. Instead, there was an interlude of crummy, static-y steel guitar. His lazy eye squiggled up and down the skinny girl that had shuffled her way into his bar: a white a-shirt under a pastel-yellow button-up that was untucked and hanging down onto a modestly short denim skirt, and a pair of brown riding boots with a couple of yellow-petaled flowers embroidered onto them. All of which I recognized in a heartbeat.

"Um…" After a long silence, the girl responded tentatively. "I'm not…I can't…um…I'm just looking for…my husband. Somebody up the street said he came…um…came this way an hour or so ago, and I've checked all the other…um…shops. I was wondering if you'd…um…seen…anyone."

The bartender huffed. "I ain't in th' business of keeping' track'a people, lil' lady," he drawled, "I'm jus' here tuh serve drinks tuh whoever walks in." He threw his cleaning cloth over his shoulder. "Now, what're ya havin'?"

The girl grabbed at the shining blonde braid that hung down over her shoulder. "Oh…um…I'm still…um…well, I'm not—"

"Elsa?" Her head practically snapped around a full one-eighty when I called her name from my booth. Her face spanned a huge spectrum of emotions, from joy to concern, before finally settling into a worried frown. She scuttled her way over to my table in a fuss. As she slid into the seat opposite me, I opened up my hands in a question. "What are you doing here? How'd you even find this place?"

"I should be asking _you_ th—" Her eyes panned over all the empty bottles next to me. "Oh my God," she whispered as emphatically as she could, "sweetie, how long have you been here?"

I let my chin sag down onto my chest. I shook my head. "I _thought_ you were busy tonight," I said.

"I _was_ busy tonight, but I stopped being busy when _you_ didn't show up!" I cocked my head. She gave me a look of exasperation. "The square dance? At the county hall? That was tonight, remember?" _Oh, for Christ's sake._ "It was _your_ idea to go and meet some of the people who might end up being our _new neighbors_."

Well, that would explain why she was wearing such an atypical outfit. I recognized her by her clothes because _I_ had told her to buy them and _I _had given her the boots as a birthday gift not even a year ago. I reached for the bottle I was working on and took a drink. "No," came the gravelly sound of alcohol still trickling down my throat, "I forgot we were gonna go do that today. I'm sorry."

She took a look around the bar. "Is this where you've been these past few nights? Drinking?" I didn't answer; my body was physically unable to lie in that moment. Elsa sank back into the booth seat. "Baby, why didn't you tell me where you were going? I thought you were out getting into trouble or something! You might have even…" She covered her mouth with her hand. "No, sorry, that's…silly."

"Did you think I was _messing around on you_?" I slid the now-empty bottle aside. "Elsa, I can't _believe_ you'd let yourself—"

"_I said_ it was silly!" Her eyes were sharp and glimmering in the light of the uncovered lightbulb that hung over our heads. "I was silly to think that, okay? But…what was I supposed to think?"

I shrugged. "I just…needed some time to de-stress, is all. I haven't hurt anyone, I haven't been irresponsible." I counted the empty bottles quickly. "Yea, I haven't been irresponsible. What's wrong with having a few drinks?"

"Well, aside from the _obvious_—" she was reminding me that I was still underage; kind of the pot calling the kettle black considering how many times she's been drunk with me since she moved here "—I think I should be allowed to know where you go when you go out. And I'll be sure to make sure you know where _I_ am, too; it's not like I'm going all psycho on you and putting you on GPS watch just because I can."

"I have a couple of drinks and suddenly I have to tell you where I am at all times?"

"This is more than a _couple_," she said sternly, pointing at the empties. "And this is the _sixth day_, sweetie! If you've had this much _six days_ in a _row_? That's definitely more than a _couple_ of drinks."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "So, it's been six days," I said, "I still haven't done anything stupid."

"But who's to say you won't do anything on day eight? Or day ten? Or day _twenty_? I'm _worried_ about you, baby!" She laid a hand on the table. "What's your plan here? Why did you just decide to go drinking and not tell me what's going on?"

I rotated my glass of water on the table, watching how it slid through the water that had sweat through the glass and pooled on the table. "I just wanted some quiet," I said sheepishly.

"The motel isn't quiet? We're the only tenants in the whole building."

"I needed to think, okay?"

"Does your brain run on beer?"

"No, I just wanted to think over a drink."

"We have drinks in the fridge, too."

"I mean a _drink_ drink."

"Orange juice is a '_drink_ drink;' it's liquid and you can drink it."

"You _know_ what I mean."

"Oh, I do, and I'm saying that's not going to fly with me."

"Why not?"

"Because there is _nothing_ you can do here that you _can't do_ back at the motel! Why are you _here_?"

"I want to be, okay?"

"There's no other reason?"

"_No_, there _isn't_."

"You're still not going to tell me?"

"_No_! I _don't_ have to tell you!"

"Why not?"

"Because there's _nothing to tell_! I wanted a _drink_, so I went to a _bar_! I didn't tell you about it because I didn't need to!"

"Is it because you want to get away from me?"

"What? No! Don't be ridiculous!"

"Then why didn't you just tell me you were going to a bar?"

"Because you didn't need to know!"

"Why not?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly through my nose. "Because…" I wan't going to get angry. No matter how thick I'd boozed up my blood, I wasn't going to let it boil. "Because you don't want to know."

"No, I'm sure I _do_ want to. I think you just don't want to have to say it out loud." She stood up. "Don't move." She scurried over to the counter and whispered with the bartender for a minute or so. I spent the time chugging down my glass of water and choking down another handful of peanuts. When Elsa returned, she had a pen and a napkin scrunched up in her fist. "I know you," she said slowly, "and I know there's nothing you hate more than admitting when something's out of your control." She pushed the napkin and pen my way. "Just…put it down here. Maybe that'll be easier?"

I stared down at the writing materials she'd given me. What a stupid thing to have to do; I'm too chicken to say anything, so I have to scribble it out on a napkin like a five year old. I might as well do it in Crayon, while I'm at it. I shook my head. "Fuck it," I muttered—Elsa cringed slightly—picking up the pen and uncapping it. I brought the napkin down onto the booth seat next to me, where Elsa couldn't see it before I was done, and wrote slowly so I wouldn't rip the paper.

_WE WON'T GET THE HOUSE UNLESS I ASK POP FOR HELP._

I folded the napkin up and capped the pen. Sheepishly, I slid the note across the table, and Elsa picked it up feverishly and unfolded it to read. Her eyes scanned across the message once, then twice, then a third time. I tossed some more peanuts into my mouth. She bit her lip, ripping the note to pieces. "I see," she whispered. "Okay, I understand why you wouldn't want to say that to me."

"I promised you that house, Elsa," I said, "I _promised_ it! I've never broken a promise before, and I sure as Hell won't start by breaking one to _you_!"

"You promised me _a_ house, you never promised me _that_ one." She dropped the torn napkin bits into one of the empty bottles. "If the money isn't there, that's just what happens; it's not the end of the world."

I made some sort of ungodly retching noise and rolled my eyes. "It sure feels like it to me, though."

She reached across the table. "But it's _not_," she said firmly. "If we can't get that house, we'll find another one we _can_ afford. There's plenty to buy in this town, remember? There'll be something for us." She drummed her fingers on the table, reclaiming my attention as it began to slip off into space. "And you _do not_ need to go back to your father…_ever_, if you don't want to."

"What?" I felt my eyebrows practically touch one another as my brow furrowed. "Elsa…did you hear what you just said?"

She nodded. "Yes, and I mean it." She sat back in her chair. "Normally, I'd _never_ tell someone to give up on their parents; you know why that's the case. But…this is different." She shook her head. "You and your father are a situation that I just don't know how to handle." Her eyes widened for a second. "That's not a bad thing," she said quickly. I shrugged. "It's just…your family is so different from the way mine was, and everything you've lived through are things I never could have imagined. And I can see that even talking about him now is making you very, _very_ upset."

She put her hands back on the table again. "You _aren't_ like him. You work so hard to be different, and it shows. It shows to _me_, and to everyone else who's met both of you. Even before…everything that happened a couple years back, when you were still living under his roof and you hadn't made up your mind to really stand up for yourself, I could see it. When I first met your dad, I could see it. The first time I went into town and introduced myself as your girlfriend, people said they could see it. But look at where you are right now." I slowly panned around the bar. "Look at what you've been doing." The empty bottles next to me seemed to be pulling faces and mocking me now.

"This is _not different_."

I felt my heart shrivel up and crumble. Elsa kept talking. "_This_ is what _he_ would do. _He_ would sneak off to a bar and get drunk and whatever. _Not_ you." She sighed. "I love you _so much_, and I was _praying_ I wouldn't have to look in here for you. I would _actually_ rather have you off fooling around with another girl than have you in here doing this to yourself. Doing this to yourself _because_ _you want to be different_ _from your father_ and live your life the way you feel you should live it. It's undoing everything you've worked so hard to accomplish. And for what? Because you're afraid you'll disappoint me by not being able to buy me a fancy house on your own?" She actually chuckled; a genuine laugh. "Sweetie, I don't _care_ about how nice the house is, or if we even _have_ a house! We could live in that motel for the rest of our lives, for all I care, so long as I get to live there with _you_. I _mean that_. Forget your father, you don't need him. What you need to do is keep on being you and look forward to what you want to do in the future. If that means we can't buy the house we've been looking at, then that's what happens; I'm okay with that." She smiled. "_I'm_ even okay with that. Right?"

I took a deep breath. "I told you it would be a late anniversary present."

"My present was _hearing_ that you wanted to find a house." She tapped on the table again. I raised an eyebrow. "Gimme your hand, please." Slowly, I placed my hand on the table and she took hold of it, cupping it gently between her two palms. "I'm pretty easy to impress," Elsa said, "if you haven't figured out yet. I may be high-maintenance, but there's one easy solution that you figured out pretty early on when we started dating; trust. I _trust_ that you love me and that you only want what's best for me. _You_ need to trust in _me_—now that we've just had our first anniversary—that what I think is best is being together with you."

I felt my chest begin to clear up a bit. I felt lighter, liberated. "So…the house…"

Elsa squeezed my hand. "I'd live under a rock with you if somebody wrote 'House' on it."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? Because that would save me so much money it might be worthwhile to think about trying it."

"You—ugh." Elsa rolled her eyes.

"Think of all the extra cash we'd have to renovate it with!" I smiled, and she did the same. That all had meant a lot to me. It had been a quiet year, living with her godparents and making money to try and find our own place. We'd spent a lot of time together, talking and sharing experiences. I felt so connected to her, but what she'd just said was totally new to me. I'd always thought she was all about family and remembering what it meant to be there for someone, but what she'd just shown me was that attitude was more than just that. What she was all about was knowing _what it means_ to be family and knowing _how_ and _when_ to be there for someone. Even though I never would have expected her to tell me to abandon my family, she did so _I_ could see that it was really the thing I needed to do. If anybody else had told me that what I was doing was making me more like my father, I'd've knocked their lights out. But the way she'd said it, the way she'd done it, it was _exactly_ what I needed to hear.

Elsa tugged gently on my wedding ring. "I'm glad you were listening." She smiled.

We both settled back into our seats. I grabbed some peanuts and popped one in my mouth. "Do you want something?" I asked. "He doesn't card you."

Elsa tilted her head. "I'm going to put my foot down as your better half and say you've had enough tonight," she said, nodding towards my empties.

I shook my head. "No, I asked if _you_ want anything." I motioned to the bottles. "I've got a tab going, you might as well get something if you're here."

She scrunched up her mouth in thought. Her eyes scanned the table, then the room, then the lightbulb over our heads. "Do they have any PBR?"

"I think so," I said. "You could get something a little…_pricier_, y'know. It's fine by me."

"I'll just have a Pabst," she said. She held up her hand, like she was explaining something. "It's not like I'm going to get drunk; somebody's gotta be sober or else we'll get lost on the way back."

I sighed. "I'm not _drunk_," I said, "you can thank my grandpapa for giving me good strong insides." I knocked twice on the table. The bartender's lazy eye wandered its way over to me. I raised two fingers. "PBR and a glass of water," I said. He nodded curtly.

Elsa was looking around the place while the barkeep produced water and a long, thin can of PBR from somewhere beneath his counter and limped them over to our booth. When he was out of earshot again, Elsa leaned forward and whispered, "Seriously, though: Why would you come _here_? It's a dump!"

I smiled, taking a sip of water. "It was charming, I guess," I said. "Everybody else was going to the 'Mariposa,' so I thought I'd save that for later when someone wants to show me the town. I just picked a dive and ended up with the quietest bar in town."

Elsa cracked open her can. "Well, I don't know about quiet," she said, "this music is a little grating."

I laughed. "Yea, you're still not a country fan, are you?"

She sputtered a bit through the head of her drink. "Hey now," she said once her mouth was empty, "I listen to country! Darius…um…What's-His-Name has a good duet with Lady Anticlimax that came out a little while ago!"

I covered my mouth to save her the embarrassment of my laughter. "You sure proved me wrong! I guess you're the real country expert now!"

"You shut up!" Through some twist of fate, the very song she had just referenced started playing over the loudspeakers: Darius Rucker's _Wagon Wheel_ with Lady Antebellum on backup. She thrust her finger into the air! "Ah-_ha_! See!?"

I shook my head. "_Unbelievable_," I said, grabbing a couple more peanuts and pushing the bowl her way. I listened to the music while Elsa took another smug drink.

"_Heading down south to the land of the pines_

_I'm thumbing my way into North Carolina_

_Staring up the road and pray to God I see headlights_

_I made it down the coast in seventeen hours_

_Picking me a bouquet of dogwood flowers_

_And I'm a-hopin' for Raleigh, I can see my baby tonight…_"

Elsa dropped the empty can onto the table. "Hey!" I was startled by how loud she was. She jabbed a finger at me. "You owe me a dance, mister!"

The chorus started up, and I felt my foot tapping already. I shrugged. "Why not? Lead the way, missy!"

She got to her feet and took my hands. "I'll have another, too," she said, "if you don't mind; we're gonna be here a while." I knocked once on the table and the bartender began his routine of fetching another can.

Elsa dragged me to an open space between the tables and set herself opposite me. "Okay," she said, flapping her arms by her sides, "how do I square dance?"

I chuckled. "You're serious…"

She frowned. "I thought I was going square dancing tonight! I got all dressed up and everything, and I'm going to get my square dance!"

I laughed. "All right, gal, let's have a square dance."

The beat was all wrong, and I'd never called before, so it was a disaster. By the second chorus, we'd given up and were just goofing around; Elsa was pinching her nose and pretending to dive underwater, and I was doing my best impression of those Russian squat-dancers; I don't need to hide the fact that I fell over pretty darn quickly. Once we'd both recovered from our laughing fit Elsa finished off her second drink and ordered a third. The end of the next song brought more laughter and a fourth drink, the next song the same and a fifth can. The bartender looked like he was reconsidering his career choices.

Then a lazy, twangy ballad came on, and everything slowed _way_ down. Elsa got real close, and I took hold of her hips, and we rocked back and forth in a slow-motion rhythm that seemed to hold up the earth's orbit and make the minutes pass like hours. I had my eyes closed, soaking up the feeling of her arms draped around my neck, the brush of her hair on my chin, the bumps of the metal rivets that held the back pockets of her skirt in place. As an interlude of steel guitar pinged away, I pulled her body closer to mine and bent my head down to meet hers. "Hey," I murmured, "why the strong urge to dance? It seemed…really sudden."

She dropped her arms from my neck and wrapped them around my waist. "We…haven't danced since our wedding." She looked up at me with big, baby blue eyes. "I like dancing with you; I feel good when you're holding me." She squeezed me gently. "And…I wanted…well, I wanted to distract you for a while from all the stuff we'd just talked about."

I stepped back and twirled her around quickly. Her braid whipped around from one shoulder to the other. I pulled her back in and started rocking back and forth again. "Thanks," I said, quietly.

"For what?"

I inhaled quickly. "For real?" I separated us a bit. "What do you think I'm thanking you for?"

Elsa's cheeks were flushed beet red. "Oh," she said, smiling, "of course." She put her head on my chest. "Of course, sweetie."

The song wound down, and I brushed her hair gently while another upbeat song came up. "Your face is really red, girly," I said, "are you feeling okay?"

She stepped back from me, holding onto my hand. "I'm fine," she said, smiling, "I just…danced too hard, is all." I grinned slyly. _No,_ I thought, _what you did is drink five huge cans of PBR_. She was such a lightweight; always had been. Elsa yawned. "We should go home," she said, "it's getting late."

I was about to correct her, say that we would be heading back to the motel, but I stopped myself. "Okay," I replied instead. She'd just finished told me how wherever we were was our home, even under a rock; where else would we be going but _home_. I went over to the counter and closed my tab, pocketing my credit card and leading Elsa out the door.

My life wasn't going to be ruined by my father any more. I'm not him, and I never will be. I'm my own man, I'm Elsa's husband, and, most importantly, I'm _happy_. The reigns to my future were firmly in my own hands, and it was time to get rolling. And Elsa was on for the ride. Her world was the same as mine, and her future was just as clear.

It ain't in a dive bar, tall can of PBR, poppin' tops rocking all night.

It's by my side, filling me out and keeping me level-headed, and trusting that I can do the same for her. We were everything to each other, and that was what we wanted.

That is, surely, where it's at.


	7. Chapter 7

_One year later [Today]…_

_It's six thirty in the damn morning, who is playing music?_ I slapped at my radio-alarm clock with all the grace of a drunk cow, none of the buttons doing anything to stop the sound that had woken me up. I _did_ manage to succeed in turning the radio _on_, creating a horrible clashing of music that only served to make me more unhappy. I hauled myself into a sitting position and picked up the clock, carefully finding the "off" button and silencing the static-y noises it was producing. The music that had woken me up wasn't horribly loud, it was actually at a pretty reasonable volume for six thirty in the morning. The house was still old and fixable, and one of those fixes was a lack of insulation within the walls; they were so thin you could practically phase through them. One of the things further down my to-do list was to have some insulation blown into the outer walls at the very least, so our air conditioners worked less on trying to cool the outside and more on trying to cool _us_. At least I'd fixed that hole in the ceiling, though; since Elsa hadn't taken to my idea of installing a fireman's pole for us to zip down into the den from the upstairs bathroom, for whatever reason, I had been sure to patch that up as soon as I could.

As I got to my feet and walked over to the dresser to find some clothes, I realized that most of the noise wasn't in fact coming from music, but from someone singing. I smiled as I pulled on a pair of boxers. I knew who was playing music. I put on a pair of basketball shorts and waddled out of the room, my legs still stiff from sleeping. The floorboards creaked beneath my bare feet, but the steps were thankfully sturdy. The stairs led down from the upstairs hallway, where there were two bedrooms and a full bath, to the front door of the house. Upstairs had become a quiet place for the two of us. The spare bedroom had become Elsa's little project, and she had turned it into a charming, rustic-looking reading room with shelves and shelves of books she had collected over the years. There were some comfortable chairs in there too; more than once, I had fallen asleep in there on accident. There was also a futon in the reading room that Anna used on the rare occasion she would come to visit during vacations. The younger girl was nearing the end of her high school career now, and she was looking for a job in the city. Elsa and I had talked about letting her sister rent out the spare bedroom, since our house was so much closer to the city than Aarondale, and I would partition a section of the den into a new reading room, but all that was still far enough off and in a grey enough area that we weren't losing sleep over it.

The outer wall was to my right, so I turned left into the den which Elsa had also put together herself. Well, when I say "put together," I mean she told me which things went where and I carried them around for her. But it was very nice, the walls a calm eggshell white with dark brown leather couches and armchairs arranged around black-oak furniture. There were paintings of forests and lakes hung on the walls, which I personally hadn't cared for when Elsa had started putting them up, but now I liked sitting in the armchairs and looking at them with a cold beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other; the news simple white noise as I let my mind wander to the serene places captured within those frames.

Attached to the den was the dining room, which we never really used. We had hosted Elsa's godparents for Christmas last year, and I think that was the first and only time we'd ever set places at the big black-oak table that dominated the room. We normally used it as a place to pile books, mail, bills, coats, or whatever else we would shed on our way through the house. I wasn't really sure why we even had this room decorated like we did. _This_ would have been a perfect place for a reading room, it even had a fireplace in the wall, but Elsa wanted to have a proper dining room so we could entertain her friends from work…"eventually."

The only other room left to enter was the kitchen, and that was where I found the source of the music. The sun was breaking through the window that looked out over the fields out back, lighting up the whiteness of the back-splashes and tile countertops. The table on the other side of the room had a dirty plate in front of one of the chairs, and a half-finished cup of coffee still steaming into the air. _That_ was really our dining room; if we weren't having pizza-and-a-movie night, and one of us wasn't out of the house, we ate every meal at the kitchen table. That table had seen lots of laughs, lots of tears, and more than its fair share of arguments, but it was still a good place to be day-in and day-out. On the counter to my left was a laptop, open and playing music. I smiled, tracking up to the stove and finding the source of the singing. Elsa was bobbing back and forth in time with the beat, spatula in hand, and singing along in a much louder tone than I'm sure she was intending to:

"…_And I know-oh I'm never letting this go-oh-oh._

_I'm stuck on you;_

_Woah-oh, woah-oh,_

_Stuck like glue._

_You and me, baby, we're stuck like glue._

_Woah-oh, woah-oh,_

_Stuck like glue._

_You and me baby, we're stuck like glue…_"

I snuck up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. She squeaked in panic, spinning around in an instant. When her wide eyes finally determined what it was that had surprised her, she covered her face with her hand and started giggling. "Oh my God, baby," she said breathlessly, "you scared me _so bad_! I almost hit you with a frying pan!"

I smiled. "Sorry," I said, drawing her in close and giving her a kiss. I looked over her head and saw a pan on the stove filled with the slowly cooking beginnings of scrambled eggs. Maybe it was because of the way Momma had always treated me, or maybe it was just me being me, but I really liked it when Elsa did things to take care of the house. Cooking, cleaning, decorating; it scratched an itch in my heart and really made me feel at home. It also didn't hurt that she was a fantastic cook. And it wasn't even as though I _wanted_ a housewife, either. Elsa was the one with a job at the moment, not me. I was spending all my time fixing the house and building new things for the farm and prepping the fields to grow commercial crops, none of those things really brining any money in for us. We were living off of Elsa's salary, meager as it was, but still making due. I had set up a little personal garden for us that I tended to, and we grew enough vegetables to keep us happy. I had been planting small rows of produce we didn't really need and selling it so Elsa didn't have to fund my little project too, but once I got the commercial crops up and going I wouldn't need to worry about who was paying for what any more.

I gave Elsa's back a small rub and walked back over to her computer. "I didn't know you liked Sugarland," I said, leaning over and switching the iTunes window to her Song library.

She scoffed. "Really? Almost six years together and you still don't think I like country music?"

"I'm only teasing! I know it's grown on you!" I scrolled down the list, looking over her tracks. She loved music, and even if I didn't know that about her already, I would have been able to tell from exactly how diverse her selection was. I clicked back to her Playlists and scrolled down that list. The one she was playing from now was labeled "Home," and looking through it I saw it was full of upbeat, poppy music. I switched it to "Shuffle" and pressed the skip button. The song changed to "Ignorance" by Paramore, and I wrinkled my nose.

"Aww, no; I had a bunch of songs lined up!" I turned and looked at Elsa, who was looking over at me with a slight look of disappointment on her face. She was wearing a black pinstripe skirt and suit coat with a frilly white blouse underneath, her hair unbraided and framing her face which she had powdered with a whisper of foundation and light purple eye shadow. She had also put on some red lip gloss, pulling together the look of an experienced but modestly understated businesswoman. The school she had been working at was very particular about the professionalism of their faculty.

"I didn't know, my fault," I said sheepishly, hitting the skip button again. The song name was in Italian, I figured, considering it was by someone named Andrea Bocelli. I clicked off the playlist and back to her Songs library, looking for something the both of us would enjoy. "Although, I should be allowed to change it up a bit, considering what you'd been playing woke me up."

"Oh, no, did it? I'm sorry, I thought I was being quiet!"

"Don't worry," I said, "I should have probably gotten up anyways; I need to finish up a couple things today that might take a while."

"Okay, then." I heard Elsa scrape the bottom of the pan with her spatula, helping the eggs to gum up and scramble correctly. "I have to get to the school a bit early today, too; the kids are supposed to be having their camp concert today, and Kimmy needs help setting up the music stands."

"Who'd've thought y'all would have so many kids at the music camp this summer?"

Elsa shrugged. "I dunno, but we're thankful they've been having a good time so far. There are so many of my students there, it's like school never ended."

"Now you have even more time to teach them the recorder!"

"Oh, hush, you! I do more than that!" We smiled at one another. Elsa's job was one of many hats; music teacher, receptionist, substitute, hall monitor, even emergency lunch lady at times. The kids were only in elementary school, so their world had no more worries than whether or not they would be able to catch the new episode of Power Rangers or whatever it was they watched these days. It made me feel like an old man that I couldn't even guess at what kids watched on TV.

My finger paused on the scroll bar as an artist's name caught my eye. _Brett Eldredge?_ I scanned over the list of songs. A sly smile crept over my face as I noticed the number of plays on each of the tracks. _Well, well…does my girl have a _favorite_?_ I peered over my shoulder at her. She was scratching her cheek, pushing strands of hair away from her lip gloss. Her eyes swung my way for a moment. "What?" she asked.

I grinned. "Hold on a second." She raised her eyebrows. I turned back to the computer and double clicked on one of the Eldredge tracks, jacking up the volume as high as I could. As it started up, I stood up from the counter and turned to her, unable to stop myself from smiling. I took a deep breath and, as the lyrics began to ring out, started to sing along.

"_Well, I just met you a couple hours ago_

_My last night in town, hey, wouldn't you know…_"

A big smile crept over Elsa's face, and she put down her spatula and brushed her hair away from her face. She took a couple steps toward me, her heels clicking on the wood floor, and I reached out a hand to her.

"_I'd get hooked on a girl with blue diamond eyes_

_Down here in Mexico, oh…_"

She took my hand and I took hold of her waist, guiding her in time with the music as we started to dance across the kitchen.

"_Now you're walking up, asking me to dance._

_Smiling that smile and reaching out your hand._

_Well ,there's a move or two I'd like to show you_

_While I've still got the chance…_"

Elsa laughed loudly as I spun her around.

"_Well you've got the soul and you know how to use it;_

_Put your hand on my hip 'cause you know that I'll lose it._

_You got my heart racing like there's nothing to it,_

_Falling in love to the beat of the music!…_"

We twirled around the kitchen to the tune of the guitar and the sound of my voice as I belted out the entirety of the song. Dancing like this was something we'd done a lot of in the past year. Elsa liked it, I liked it, and we couldn't think of a reason not to dance whenever we could. Whether it was at town hall functions, ballroom dancing lessons at the community center, or just right here in the kitchen, neither one of us ever denied the other a dance. And to think that Elsa had once refused to dance with me at junior prom, yet here she was in high heels spinning and stepping like she was born to do it.

As I held out a final "*yeah*," and the last of they cymbal crash died down, Elsa slid up against my chest and sighed. "One thing about you country boys is you've got the _best_ accents," she said dreamily.

I chuckled. "Well, thank'ya, ma'am," I replied, really hamming up my drawl as hard as I could, "Y'all 'r too kind."

Elsa laughed. "Oh, I could listen to you say _anything_."

I smiled. "_Booger_."

She pulled a face like she had just smelled a cow pat. "Okay, maybe not 'anything'…"

"No take backs!" I poked her in the sides, and she giggled. Her fingers wriggled quickly beneath my arms onto my shirtless ribs, and I started giggling too. "Okay, okay," I pleaded, "take backs are okay!"

Elsa called off her tickles and ran her hands over my chest. "Right, not 'anything,' but _most things._"

"Anything in particular?"

She bit her lip. "I like it when you say 'love.'"

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, do you now?" She nodded eagerly. I craned my neck down towards her. "_Love_."

"Oooh," she shuddered, "_exactly_."

I smiled wide. "_Love_," I said again, and again she made a little gasping sound. "_Looooooooove_."

"Enough, enough; you'll give me a heart attack! I have to go to work today, I can't be swooning so early in the morning."

I chuckled, leaning down and brushing my nose against hers. "I 'looove' _you_, Elsa."

"I love you too." She reached up and met my lips. She wrapped her hands around my neck. Our lips parted for a moment. "I love you so much," she whispered.

In my closed eyes, I could see clearly what those words meant. They were the ultimate symbol of who I was to Elsa. I saw our first date at the county fair, when I had shared about Tay and she had told me about her parents. I saw the day I had proposed to her at the pond, and I remembered the joy in her eyes when she realized that I was actually asking her to marry me. I saw the night I had stood up against Pop, and even though I had said some things I wasn't proud of, Elsa still wanted me to spend the night at her godparents so we could be together when we needed each other the most. I saw the day we had met her aunt and uncle, when I had proven to myself that nobody could tell me I wasn't meant to be with Elsa. I saw our wedding night, and remembered how softly she had whispered to me when the day ultimately wound down: "_You're the only one I'd ever trust like this. I think…I think I'm finally ready_." I saw the night she had found me boozing myself in that bar and she pulled me out of the funk I had descended into. And I remembered the weeks after we'd bought the house, when it was still a dump, and how she'd spend the nights in one of my old t-shirts to keep warm from the draft coming through the window.

In my closed eyes, I could see that she meant _forever_ with those words. I couldn't think of anything better than forever. All I did was kiss her again. And she kissed back. If that was good enough for her, then it sure as Hell could be good enough for me.

Then she rocked back on her heels suddenly, her face scrunched up and frowning. "Do you smell something?"

I huffed a half-laugh. "Really killing the moment, there, girly."

Elsa shook her head. "No, I'm serious, do you not smell…" She looked over to the stove. "_Oh_ no!" She scurried away to the pan with the eggs, which was beginning to waft black smoke into the kitchen air. "No, no, no," she said rapidly, flipping the burners off and moving the pan away from the hot surface. The eggs were blackened and hard looking, and Elsa quickly ran cold water over them in the sink to smother the smoke. "Oh, my God, I completely forgot about these!"

I shrugged. "It's fine, Elsa, they're just eggs." My ears picked up something coming from her computer. _Chase Rice_? I checked the song title: "Ready Set Roll." I raised my eyebrows. "Wow, I guess country really _has_ grown on you."

"That's what I've been saying!" She scraped the charred remains of the eggs into the garbage and put the dishes in the sink. Her eyes drifted to the clock, and suddenly she was panicked again. "Oh, shoot! I'm late!"

"What?"

"I'm _late_! I'm going to be _late_!" She frantically scrambled around the kitchen, grabbing things off of counters and tossing dishes into the sink. "Ohhhhhh," she moaned, "I _completely_ lost track of time! Baby, can you pack up my computer?"

"Yep, yep," I said, doing just that.

"Thank you _so much_." She sighed. "Oh, I can't believe I lost track of time! _And_ I burned the eggs! Now I'm late and you don't have any breakfast! I'm so sorry! I should've—"

"Elsa! _Elsa_!" I grabbed her by the shoulders and held her in place. "Calm down. Don't worry about the eggs any more, I'll be okay. Just focus on getting to work, okay?"

"But, what are you going to eat for breakfast?"

"I can…hmm…" I paused. "I think I might be able to, like, pour milk in a bowl? Or something like that? I remember doing it once before at some point." Elsa rolled her eyes, unimpressed with my sarcasm. "I'm an adult, Elsa, I can make myself breakfast." I handed her the computer bag. "Now g'awn, girly, git! Don't be late for work!"

She grabbed a hat off the coatrack and pressed it down on top of her head. It was one of my old, faded ball caps with some landscaping company logo on the front from when I had worked there in high school. I must have been making a face or something, because she gave me an irritated look. "It's sunny on my way there, okay? And again in the afternoon, because the sun is going down in the other direction."

I put my hands up. "I don't remember saying anything," I said, "and if I did, it should have been to tell you that I like that look on you." She was already out the back door to where I had parked the truck. I opened the screen door and called after her. "Hey! It's pizza-and-a-movie tonight; your pick!"

She groaned. "Really? I must have forgotten." She threw open the door of the cab. "I'll stop at Redbox on my way back."

"And I'll call for pizza," I said. She stepped up onto the kick plate and hauled herself up into the cab. "And, text me before you rent the movie!"

"If I do that, it's not really my pick, then, is it?" She shut the door, pushing her bag into the passenger's seat. I looked at the key rack next to my head and smiled. I turned back to Elsa and watched as her hand instinctively went to the ignition, but found nothing. She bent over and looked at the keyhole, and I laughed when she slammed her head back into the headrest. I grabbed the keys off their ring as she kicked the door open. "Here you go, sweetie," I said, jingling them in front of my face. I raised them to show her I planned on tossing them, and she raised her hands to catch. With the best aim I could manage, I lobbed them over the dirt driveway and they landed right between her two palms.

"Thanks, baby!" She ducked her head back into the cab and turned the engine over.

I signaled her to roll her window down. Once she did, I called out, "Drive safe, Elsa; I love you! Have a good day at work!"

"I love you too, baby! I'll see you tonight!" She threw the gear into reverse and turned the truck around before speeding off towards the road. She had a bit of a drive to get to the school just outside the city, but it wasn't as though she was going to be horribly late; she was _her_ kind of late, where early is on-time and on-time is late. I turned and let the screen door shut behind me.

A typical morning, yet again. But, hey; if that's what typical is, I'd be happy to slip into a rut any time.

Because seeing Elsa all dressed up, but with her hair down in a ball cap, reminded me that she was still a city girl at heart, with country just barely sprinkled on top. Everything had pace, everything had a schedule. And without that pace, without that drive, I would have never known what it was like to _want_.

I would have never known _her_.

And knowing her will forever be _where it's at_.

[OOC: Hope you enjoyed reading! If you go to YouTube and put the following sequence after the main URL, you'll find the video of Dustin Lynch's "Where It's At"; the song that inspired this story: /watch?v=QsRMlR0CUt8 ]


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